


The Terrace

by cortchuzska



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-12
Updated: 2014-04-12
Packaged: 2018-01-19 02:10:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1451545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cortchuzska/pseuds/cortchuzska
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>I told him, on the terrace. We were eating oranges. ‘Find us friends, if there are any to be found. Learn what you can of Elia’s end, but see that you do not provoke Lord Tywin unduly,’ those were my words to him. Oberyn laughed, and said, ‘When have I provoked any man... unduly? You would do better to warn the Lannisters against provoking me.’</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Terrace

“You have been staring down for too long.”

Before she could even startle, with a sharp pull he turned her around and pushed her roughly to the bannisters, the stone edge digging into her back, and was on her, his mouth forcing her lips open. She put up a futile struggle: it was him or the Blackwater behind, which had lost suddenly its mesmerizing appeal. Sansa had to yield, accepted the kiss, let it deepen and leaned against him, just enough to wriggle out of his grip.

“Unhand me!”

He pinned her wrists painfully to the parapet.

“Promise you'll stay away from ledges and the likes from now on and stop wishing the sea to swallow you whole.”

“What else could I hope for?” She was too shocked to ward her words. “Don't you know about my family? No one left...”

“Yes; and the gruesome way of it.” He cut her short. “Why are you so eager to help the Lannisters, let them make the Castamere Rains true once more and rid them of the last living Stark effortlessly?”

“Why would you care, my lord?” She answered blankly.

With easy grace he perched up and sat astride the balaustrade, let go of her hands and glimpsed over the gap, to the calm waters below.

“Once I knew a lady, a most beautiful one. She looked down long enough to hear her name, answered the call and stepped out of a window, down to the sea.” He squinted at her over his shoulder. “A broken heart, they said.”

“Because of you?”

“A Stark, rumour has it.” He turned to her with an unreadable smile. “You will live. Not because of me, but because of Tywin Lannister.”

She gazed back.

“I envy your position. A blade pointed to their guts, without them even realizing.” He laughed. “You are the North, I can speak for Dorne: we should have a talk sometime. Think over it and call on me whenever you like. You'll find me at the small council, or at Littlefinger's brothel; ask your husband for the address. Lady Stark... Or is it Queen?”

A bow, and he was gone, Sansa still clutching at the railings.

\--o--

Bronn broke a myrtle twig to pick his teeth and tilted up his chin to the lonely terrace far above. Noon light glanced off the water, caught Sansa fiery hair and outlined two shapes like a magnifier. “D'you want me to kill him? I am already paid handsomely for it, but a little extra would be welcome. The man has quite a reputation, I heard.” He rose from the stump he had slouched on and stretched.

“Bronn, please. We don't need to sour our relationships with Dorne.”

“Just trying to be helpful.” Bronn tugged his sword belt. “It's not like you are best friends anyway.”

Tyrion stoppered the wineskin they were sharing with a grimace.

“There is not much that could turn them sourer, I agree, nonetheless killing the ruling Prince's brother would most likely serve.”

“Don't mind him shagging wife? Fine for me. Since you don't, someone has to, I guess.”

“Thanks for your wisdom, Bronn.” Tyrion wobbled to his feet.

The up-jumped sellsword scratched his beard. “You wouldn't put your silver on Martell as her type, though.”

“I admit my lady wife quite surprises me: I always supposed she wouldn't settle for less than Prince Charming...”

“A Prince he is.”

“Or a Shining Knight at least: last I checked she had crush on the Knight of Flowers.”

“Did she? What an appalling taste in men.”

Tyrion shrugged. “Can't expect better from a girl who married me.”

“Would choose you over him any time. Pretty face, but no sense of humour.”

 


End file.
